closed my heart
by hikachu
Summary: Because he is too selfish to give up on the future he longs for. It's as simple as that. Post series.


After a while, the promise has become a timid fire that burns, mostly unseen, under heavy, grey ashes.

It's not that Shion doesn't believe, but sometimes, when he thinks too much and he isn't busy enough and his mind wanders, a mysterious weight settles in his throat: he doesn't know, can't let himself find out, if it's the beginning of tears or a scream; if it's an expression of sadness, or anger—it could very well be both, after all, tinged with longing in any case. Shion doesn't know; he simply swallows it down and keeps waiting, believing.

He watches summer come and go alone and tells himself that, probably, Nezumi will be there to witness it with him next year, and even if he isn't, Shion knows that _their_ summer will come eventually.

Surely, Nezumi said. Surely, Shion finds himself repeating at times. Surely, one day.

But as yet another summer goes by, and then another, and another, and another until Shion should have lost count (he hasn't, because he still believes, waits), all that happens _one__day_, is that he's walking down the slope – now covered in flowers – where Nezumi kissed him for the first and last time, and realizes that he cannot remember how that felt. Shion thinks that Nezumi could have been smirking into the kiss, then that it could have simply happened in a dream.

Were Nezumi's lips soft, or were they cracked by the cold? What did he taste like? What did his voice sound like, exactly?

Shion shivers, sweats at the same time. His head feels too light, his heart too heavy. He's realized that he doesn't know anymore.

He regrets remembering how on a certain day, Inukashi's puppies clung to his sweater with their teeth, as if jealous, smelling his impatience to see Nezumi again and refusing to let him go, but not Nezumi's inflection and slight smile as he said, welcome back, and what they ate that evening.

Shion feels sick, is afraid that in a near future his memories will all melt together and mix with dreams and wishful thinking. Unconsciously he mouths: surely, one day, and then the ashes are blown away, the fire burns bright, explodes; Shion hears Nezumi reciting his favorite pieces for him, then refusing out of childish spite on a different night. Nezumi complained that Shion took up too much space in bed but kicked and clung to him in his sleep. Nezumi wasn't a morning person: it took him several moments to get out of bed and he wasn't fully awake until he washed his face with cold water and drank a cup of watered down, nearly tasteless coffee (or watered down, nearly tasteless tea, depending on what was available at the moment—fresh milk was really hard to come by, unless Rikiga happened to have some to share with Shion).

Surely, one day. These are his—their magic words, and they fill the holes in Shion's memory with other happiness from those days which will never return. It's a happiness that remains warm and alive inside of him, even as voices and faces fade away. It's something precious that belongs only to Nezumi and him: Shion never reminisces, never talks about those days with anybody else.

There are, in fact, many, many things that Inukashi and Karan will never truly know; many, many things Shion will never tell them. But even if they can't know, they can imagine and no matter how faint it is, it's still enough to make them worry and hope.

Surely, one day, he mutters at times when he's alone, smiling almost bashfully because he can picture Nezumi entering from the window, right at that moment, making fun of him for being too sentimental, and Shion thinks it would be wonderful, that he can't wait for it to really happen, and he really does believe that it will, in the promise, because he would trust Nezumi no matter what. Because his affection is absolute, stronger than any doubt or fear.

Because he is too selfish to give up on the future he longs for. It's as simple as that.

And so, even if on some nights he can't fall asleep, and his heart beats fast as he wonders where are you now, are you alright, when will you come back, what did you see that I didn't, will you want to kiss me again, in the end Shion lives, works, smiles, in a world that he loves in his own way, but that holds no meaning to him all the same, clinging to that summer that will come, surely, one day, for them both.


End file.
